I was not allowed to drive my car to the center.
They said
1. Only I was allowed to see her
2. I was not allowed to know her location,
her place
in this
metropolitan waiting room
as if I
would help her hasten her death.
The white van came for me
at 7 in the morning.
I had been sitting on my four poster for an hour,
imitating my religiously hungover self, me
as solitary space cadet
I heard the beep
two times
the sound of maids punching in my room code,
“nandito na ang kotse, ma’am.”
I’ll be down in 5.
I surveyed my room,
Reached for a large canvas bag to fill with
- inspirational novels, poetry collections
- good music released over the last two years
- my unanswered letters – each one unopened and deliberately sealed, with words, stickers, tape.
Do not tamper.
- black lace dress I wore to the last masquerade
But she doesn’t need it in there.
She doesn’t need to know
our world goes on without her
and I live my life too.
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